The Difference Between Clouds and Sunshine
by mylilchickadee
Summary: Shikamaru, Chouji and looking up at the clouds. Short oneshot


Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Naruto

A/N: Wrote this during my lunch break. I have no idea where it came from. I don't think I've ever even read a Shika and Chouji fic, and certainly never expected to write one since I don't feel I know them that well. So . . .yeah, I know.

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The Difference Between Clouds and Sunshine

Clouds are funny things. They can take a lot of different forms, really. They can be as harmless as shade or as powerful as a thunderstorm. At times the air is filled to bursting with them, darkening the sky, and sometimes there's not even a trace of one to be found anywhere.

But that's what makes them so interesting.

He laid beneath the shade of a tree, his arms behind his head, one leg propped up over the other and looked to the clouds that hung up there in that big blue sky.

There weren't too many there now, but still he watched the shadows they made, shifting and stirring in the slight breeze.

A group of kids whooped and hollered as they ran through the fields in front of him. They liked the sun. Bright and shining and constant. The sun that never changes, that just sits up there in the sky and looks down, never moving, only seeming to when the earth itself revolves around it. But what's the good of staring at the sun? First you get bored, then you go blind. And then as you stand there, you slowly cook and burn.

There's nothing so great about that.

Clouds are much better. They're big, they're small, they're dark or light, thin, fat.

And hey, that one there looks like Chouji.

There's a soft rustle in the grass and a louder crunching of chips as a large shadow casts itself over him.

He turns to look, and it's, as expected, his "pleasingly plump" best friend staring down. Chouji pops another chip into his mouth and chomps down loudly, offering the open bag to his friend.

Still laying down under the tree, he only turns his gaze from his plump friend and back to the sky, a silent invitation.

Chouji plops down beside him, the rhythmic munching a background to the slow waltz of the clouds.

A particularly large and fluffy one floats overhead, blocking out the sun and rendering the sky temporarily dark.

The little group of kids playing "ninja" in the field whine in unison in one great complaint. They all together look upwards, pouts on their faces, disappointment in their hearts, grumbling for all they're worth.

They like the sun beating down on them, blistering their skin and making them sweat. That's somehow better than the gentle, sweet shade made by the cloud.

The cloud that looks rain-heavy, which they take as a personal affront..

He only sighs, the constant crunch-crunch-crunch beside him oddly hypnotic. He knows this is not one of _those_ clouds. It won't stay, it will only pause a moment before continuing on its way.

And when it does shortly after, the children cheer loudly, jumping and running and returning to their ninja game.

There's a crinkling of empty bag and from the corner of his eye he sees Chouji shove the wrapper into his belt and pull out another and open it.

The chomping resumes. None is offered this time.

The children's cries become less and less and finally stop. They've all thrown themselves to the dirt in one giant heap, all tuckered out from playing in the hot searing sun.

But the shade of the tree is still cool and comfortable and the chewing and chomping a strange, pleasant melody.

A wispy cloud has formed somehow, far in the distance. He sighs again, his eyes half-lidded, but not closed.

He looks to the children in their unruly pile, as they start to snore away and bake under the weight of the still shining sun. He looks to his friend, happily eating away and staring out into the air, out into nothing. Then he looks back up to the clouds, those fickle little things that sometimes take over the sky and sometimes give way to the sun.

And he smiles as he stares upward and lets his mind wander, the same repetitive crunch-crunch-crunch echoing in his ears.

Because he knows.

Clouds may make you lazy, but the sun; the sun just makes you tired.


End file.
